Grace and Fury (Grace and Fury #1)(64)

She went down again, sand filling her mouth. She spit and screamed, her panic and fury all-consuming.

Bruno’s grip dug into her skin, shackling her to him. Slowly, he stood up, dragging her toward him. Panic filled her. She kicked and wriggled violently, terror lending her strength. Her arm hit her water flagon. She scrambled for it as something to throw at him, but it rolled out of reach. Her foot finally connected with his knee. His hands slipped, just for a second.

He grunted as she pulled herself free.

Her panting breath screamed in her throat. She scrambled to her feet, backing away from him at the same time. The darkness was disorienting, giving his face a deathly, masklike quality.

Like a snake hypnotizing his prey, his gaze held her. She paused for a split second.

But it gave him an opening. He raised his firearm.

She threw her knife as hard as she could.

Miraculously, it buried itself to the hilt in his chest.

But he still fired his weapon.

A searing pain exploded in her arm as the force of the bullet drove her to the ground. Her head slammed against something hard and the world went black.





THIRTY-TWO



NOMI


BEAUTIFULLY DRESSED WOMEN stood at intervals throughout the small ballroom in the Graces’ chambers, their arms raised above their heads in identical poses. Their faces tilted toward the ceiling, with matching expressions of serenity. Except Maris, whose eyes were dulled by grief. And Nomi, who wore a look of fury.

She would never master the art of becoming a living statue, because she never wanted to. She wasn’t made of clay. Her bones and breath and blood were meant to move.

At the far end of the room, Ines gracefully shifted to a new position. In silence, the rest of the Graces shifted too, matching Ines’s stance perfectly.

Nomi’s muscles shook.

For a week, she had done little but go to dress fittings and dance lessons and endless Grace training. The rest of the time she’d paced her room, driving Angeline to distraction. Asa had sent her no messages, and they’d had no opportunity to speak during the dance lessons. Malachi had appeared a few times to watch the training, throwing all three girls out of sorts, but he had never requested to see them alone.

The moment they’d shared at the beach haunted her. His skin sliding against hers, the way he’d held her in the water, safe and yet at his mercy… the fact that he’d been the one to give her the book.… She knew it was a trap. It had to be. But he had called it a gift, and the look in his eyes had almost convinced her he meant it. But how could that be?

And why was she thinking of him when Asa held all her hopes? He was the brother she wanted. He was the one she trusted, that she cared about. The one she was desperate to see.

Maris had tried to speak to her, and Cassia sniped and tittered behind her back. But the haze wouldn’t dissipate. Every day that passed without word from Renzo, it was harder for Nomi to concentrate on life in the Graces’ chambers.

Had Renzo understood her message? What if he’d decided not to come? What if Trevi had betrayed Asa, and Renzo was even now awaiting the Superior’s judgment?

Her mind spiraled further and further into darkness.

And at its center, Serina sat in her cell, thinking she would be there forever. Not knowing how hard Nomi was trying to save her. How desperately impatient she was to see her sister safe and well.

If Renzo didn’t get that letter… if Renzo didn’t come…

By the time Ines moved to the next statuesque pose, Nomi’s arms were on fire.

“Why are we doing this?” she groused under her breath, dropping her arms to let the blood flow back into her fingers.

“Nomi!” Ines called. “Arms up. No excuses.”

With a badly concealed groan, Nomi bullied her shaking limbs into position.

“It is a great honor to be chosen as a living statue for one of the Superior’s parties.” Cassia held the contorted pose as if made of stone. Not a single tremble.

Nomi’s arm dropped again, her fingers having progressed past tingly and into numb. As she shook her hand back to life, she noticed the guard in the doorway slip into the hall. Seconds later, Marcos’s stocky form replaced him.

Nomi’s eyes widened. Marcos regarded her calmly, but with intent. Did he want to speak with her? Was this it?

She tried to squelch the thrill of hope that shivered up her spine. She’d seen Marcos half a dozen times over the past week. His presence could easily mean nothing.

Still, Nomi’s heart jumped when Ines announced, at last, “That’s enough for today.”

The rustle of fabric and murmur of voices slowly filled the room. Maris shook out her fingers. Cassia twisted at the waist a few times and rearranged her silky blond hair. Some of the other girls sagged, but Cassia’s whole body sang with energy.

Nomi rubbed at her aching neck with fingers still smarting painfully.

She left the room with the others, and silent as a shadow, Marcos followed.

He waited until they were alone in the empty corridor of bedrooms before slipping something into her hand.

A letter.

Nomi’s breath froze. N, in care of Trevi was written in Renzo’s hand.

Tears pricked at the back of her eyes. Renzo.

“His Eminence asks that you meet him on the terrace. Tonight,” Marcos said quietly. When she nodded, he bowed and slipped away.